


all for myself

by stormtongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Loki (Marvel), Blow Jobs, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Edgeplay, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Intersex Jotunn (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Light Angst, Light BDSM, M/M, Maybe A Little Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Pre-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Self-cest, Top Loki (Marvel), they're both loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-04 12:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14020710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormtongue/pseuds/stormtongue
Summary: Set during Chapter 3 of Reconciliation but also written to work as a standalone. Loki tries to have an interesting conversation with his past self, but he keeps getting distracted by something he’s missed dearly.





	1. apparitions gone awry

Loki had forgotten how beautiful he once was, back before he had fucked up his own life so dearly. The pain had been written on his face, leaving him looking much more lined and worn now even though it had only been a decade. That was a significant amount of time on Midgard, yes, but barely more than the blink of an eye to gods. The young, pointed, but still full and healthy face before him was a reminder of how much he had endured in such a short time. He missed it; he hungered for it.

 

The boy was grown, yes, but still so young and naive. He did not yet know his true parentage. He barely knew pain.

 

He had named him Naive-Loki. A bit cumbersome, but naming him this way ensured that he would not forget that the Loki currently resting on his bed (well, Odin’s bed) was there for a reason. Naive-Loki had been created due to a series of discoveries by Loki pertaining to his clones. Previously unknown magic had allowed him to imbue the clones with free will, and not only that: he could put different personas inside of them, too. He was currently in the midst of using this skill to try and discern the future, to see if gaining perspective on his past was enough to give him some direction moving forwards.

 

The cost was great for Loki. It required full empathy for whomever he was putting inside, severely limiting his opportunities, and by necessity weaning off his emotions far more than he would prefer. For now, at least, he had only succeeded conjuring past and future versions of himself, along with a young Thor. He was fairly certain these were the only two people he would ever be close enough to to be able to materialize their personalities in a recognizable way.

 

And now, here he was. Here both of them were. Loki and his pure _(well, relatively pure)_ younger self, one with a secret Loki was obligated to divulge. He had chosen this point in time for a reason. But that could wait. Loki had other needs, too.

 

He had summoned the boy with a now-familiar spell and told him what he was. Why lie? Naive-Loki knew he was there for a purpose, but his older self was not making it as clear as he should be.

 

“Loki, why do you think I’ve created you?” He looked upon the younger boy with adoration, sentimentality, and maybe the smallest amount of fear. But for now, that was all obscured by something much more base. Something Loki hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long while.

 

Naive-Loki was stretched out on the large bed like a cat, perfectly at ease in his black-and-green leathers, more relaxed than he would ever let himself be in public. His creator sat tensely at the desk by the fireplace, eying him carefully.

 

“Hm, why do I think so? There are so many possibilities. You want me to go do something boring you don’t want to do yourself. You want me to discuss with you things you don’t want to tell Thor. You’re going to use me to fuck with somebody, probably Thor as well. Have I guessed right, yet?” His face held feigned innocence, but his eyes were much darker, hiding a lurking desire underneath.

 

A thrill coursed through Loki. “Close. Well, it’s sort of a combination.”

 

Loki had a reason, a very good and important reason to have summoned his younger self. He had legitimate fears for the future that he hoped might be assuaged by revealing his greatest, coldest secret to himself in the past, back when Odin hadn’t yet. Hopes that the younger Loki would take the news of his parentage much better, and thus give the present-day Loki perspective on his future malaise. He had already determined through trial-and-error that, as he was not literally pulling the past Loki through time into the present, but rather creating a copy of how he was at that point in time, he could not actually change the past. But that was immaterial. He only wanted to understand his mindset, right?

 

Now, he was struggling to remember just _why_ he had to do the damned painful thing now, anyway. Couldn’t the future wait? If he was fucked, he might as well enjoy it.

 

And enjoying it was exactly what he now wanted to do.

 

Naive-Loki shifted onto his back to drop his head off the bed, his upside-down face cast into strange shadow by the fire. “What is that supposed to mean? Am I just here to be your plaything? Because if so, I’d rather you just kill me now.” This one had spirit. Loki was starting to think he had picked the perfect time from which to summon himself.

 

He hadn’t created this clone just for his own pleasure, he really hadn’t. If he reminded himself enough, could that make it true?

 

“I, er... I have something to tell you. About yourself. It’s not... good. It’s making it... I’m finding it very hard to concentrate.”

 

Naive-Loki beamed, white teeth glinting. _He knows exactly what you are up to. He knows what you want._

 

“Overcome with lust at the sight of me, are you? We always were our... ah... biggest fans.”

 

“Oh, get off.” Loki looked away. _Just fucking tell him, you imbecile. You. Are. A. Frost. Giant. Do not let him distract you._

 

Naive-Loki wasn’t perturbed. “Ah, I knew it! You’re lonely, aren’t you? That’s why I’m here, you deviant. Have we really lost our touch in just a few measly years? Or is there simply no one in Asgard who can match our prowess? Thor off somewhere else, I assume?” Contrary to his words, his tone conveyed that he was positively delighted at the prospect of fulfilling his creator’s desires.

 

“No! That’s not why you’re here. I mean... Thor is gone, yes, but... so am I. I really do not want to get into the details with you, but we’re actually dead right now. To Asgard, at least. It’s a long story. I faked my death and now I get to play as Odin all day. It’s simply lovely.” He hid his arousal at the clone’s teasing with annoyance. Loki wished to tell the him as little as possible, besides what was necessary. He also found he kept forgetting what he had summoned him there for in the first place.

 

Naive-Loki rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on his hands. “That sounds uninteresting. Where is dear Father then? Wait, no. I think I’d rather you not tell me, if my time here is really so limited. Might as well spend that time doing something more worthwhile, eh? I suppose that would explain the loneliness, though.”

 

Loki narrowed his eyes and pouted. Leave it to himself to get under his skin in this way. “Hmph. I suppose it does. Fine. I’ll admit, it’s been a somewhat barren few years. I’ve been otherwise occupied. Unlike you.”

 

The past Loki was in the height of his lustful appetite, having bedded most of the palace servants and guards, as well as half of Thor’s friends.

 

He smoothly hopped off the bed and stalked over to his future self.

 

“Well, isn’t that sad.” Sarcasm, but with a hint of danger underneath; the look in his eyes showed the same. “No Fandral here anymore? No Sif? No one you can tell your woes to but yourself?” He ran his fingers through Loki’s hair, then pulled his head back.

 

Loki had completely given up on telling him anything at all, for now at least. He needed this.

 

“Kneel.” Naive-Loki let go of his creator’s head and stepped back. Loki, lust peaking already inside him, quickly moved to oblige, sliding off the chair and onto his knees. It had been far too long since he had felt this way. He closed his eyes and breathed in the warm-smelling leather of Naive-Loki’s pants, hands sliding up his slender legs. He felt them shudder. Desensitized as he was back then, he had always been wonderfully receptive to touch.

 

Loki’s hands reached the younger’s ass, fingers sliding over the smooth leather around to his hips, lightening his touch to barely a whisper over the especially-sensitive areas right above his hipbones, and around to the fastenings at the front of his pants. He heard the soft exhale above him as he undid them, so familiar that he did not even need to look at the complicated clasps, even with the already-hardening cock starting to peek through. He slid them down, releasing the pale length, letting it curve upwards towards his chest.

 

This was not the first time that Loki had used a clone for this purpose, but it had been many long years. In truth, he hadn’t really needed it since his youth. He would never forget the memories, though; the thoughts and feelings and acts he had shared with no one else. They flooded his mind even as he opened his mouth and licked a slow, meandering stripe from root to tip. He swirled his tongue around the hole, liquid starting to well in it, tasting the salt, and languidly sucked the head gently, taking his time, enjoying the much-missed closeness with another-

 

Naive-Loki cleared his throat. “Pardon me, but I really do not have all day. Well, I suppose that is really up to you, but I’d certainly appreciate it if you’d stop playing around and get on with it.”

 

Loki extricated his mouth from the cock, tilted his head back, and scoffed. “Is this not my party?”

 

“I don’t think you really want it to be.” And with that, he grabbed Loki’s hair once again and pulled him back in, using his other hand to guide his cock roughly into Loki’s mouth, and started thrusting his hips forward, nearly choking his future self. With each impulsion, he encroached farther down his throat, making Loki’s eyes water.

 

 _If that’s how it’s going to be..._ Loki wasn’t about to let his younger self have all the fun. He let his fingernails dig into the flesh of his lower back, feeling the hard muscle underneath tense further, and felt Naive-Loki slow a bit, falling off pace as Loki started to let his tongue wander, no longer letting the other Loki do all of the work. The hand on his head shifted from a painful grab to a hard caress, moving its way down to his neck, cradling it.

 

Loki could no longer ignore the uncomfortable tightness that had been ever-growing in his own pants, and let go to reach down and unclasp them.

 

“No,” Naive-Loki commanded him, but it sounded like more of a whine than an order. Still, Loki humored him, moving his hands back to the younger’s hips, letting his pain course through his body and into his hands and mouth, squeezing ever harder, sucking ever harder. His breathing had grown coarse and ragged, rough exhales matching the pace of the moans coming from above his head.

 

It was a relief for Loki to finally be controlled again. To give up his freedom, just for a few hours, to one he knew would wield it wisely.

 

Naive-Loki started to increase the pace again, hitting the back of Loki’s throat with each thrust, the wet warmth making him whine with need. Near powerless, Loki decided to use one of the few things he had left at his disposal, and slid one hand down underneath, far underneath, slowly encircling his hole, moving closer and closer, starting to push a single fingertip in, knowing it would hurt-

 

Naive-Loki crested into a quick and blazing orgasm, seed spilling into Loki’s mouth, some dripping out before he could remember that he needed to swallow. He slipped the finger back out even as he let the come trickle down his throat, and was immediately pulled up by the hair into a fiery kiss, shared passion mingling as they each tasted each other’s seed in each other’s mouth.

 

Loki was overcome by it. Overcome by the satisfaction of being able to give himself what he needed, and being able to take it in return. The younger one pressed his tongue into him, dominating him, consuming him. Loki needed it and could not stand it. He bit down hard, blood joining the variegated flavors on his tongue, and found the other Loki immediately responding, pulling back and meeting his eyes with renewed fire, a lust reserved for him and him alone.

 

“Have you had enough?”

 

_Never._

 

Loki responded by pulling him by the hand to the bed, immediately magicking off the rest of their clothing, not willing to waste time when the tiniest, already-satisfied part of him was reminding him that this was most assuredly not why he had summoned this clone.

 

He collapsed onto the mattress, Naive-Loki pressed on top of him, still kissing him furiously. He raised his arms above his head knowing that his younger self would pin them there, the lack of support pressing their hips tighter together. The younger man had grown hard again already, and the feeling of their cocks pressed up next to each other, so perfectly identical in size and shape, the absolute _ridiculousness_ of it, made Loki break away from the other’s lips and start laughing, the madness of the situation bearing down upon him. He stifled it by biting into his clone’s shoulder, nearly breaking skin.

 

Naive-Loki understood. He knew, he alone could understand, and he would not force himself to come up with some fabricated reason for his sudden mirth. He instead moved his head down to start kissing, biting, licking blotches down Loki’s chest, clearly moving to reciprocate the act he’d just received.

 

“Wait,” Loki tried to say, laughter still escaping his lungs, “wait.” He stuck out his tongue, eyes pressed closed, drunk on lust and bizarre longings. He sat upright and conjured a pair of burnished silver handcuffs, insides padded with crimson velvet. “I trust you know what to do with these.”

 

Naive-Loki rolled his eyes and crawled back up to restrain Loki’s wrists into place and attach the cuffs to two of the wooden bars making up the headboard of the four-poster bed. Contented, Loki lay back, closing his eyes again, giving in.

 

“All right. I’m all yours now.” Loki smiled, this time a true, warm smile, not merely a teeth-baring ruse hiding a lie.

 

Wait... that reminded him. There was one last thing. One last weapon to give up: his greatest one. Not wanting to make a show out of it, Loki magicked a matching silver muzzle into place over his mouth. Now he was liberated.

 

How freeing it was to be here, restrained, unable to hurt anyone, not even himself, completely at the mercy of his own wild consciousness.

 

Naive-Loki didn’t hesitate to take advantage of his prey. He slid back down his body, even more torturous to Loki than Loki had been to him, younger but much more in practice with this sort of thing. He licked slowly down each of Loki’s prominent hipbones, stopping just before he reached his achingly hard cock, fingers kneading between his thighs, making him squirm and pull against the cuffs. He teased him relentlessly, tongue tracing ever closer to where Loki needed it most, wanting to make him beg for it, to admit that he was all he needed and all he would ever need.

 

But Loki could not speak the words, and not only because of the muzzle. He kept finding them caught in his throat, building up until they could only be released in a whimper through his nose, trusting that his younger self would be able to translate.

 

Naive-Loki pulled away for a viscously long moment, and then finally gave him what he needed in the form of a tiny, tender bite in the middle of his testicles.

 

“Nrgh,” he grunted through the cold metal; Loki nearly came from this touch alone, cock still yet neglected, but inhaled acutely and caught himself, edging away from what he feared might be his only orgasm until he must vanish this beautiful, perfect, greedy clone.

 

The soft, warm breaths of Naive-Loki’s chuckles on his sensitive, exposed skin relaxed Loki more than he had been in ages. He could not hold off his need much longer. Loki opened his eyes and held his head back up, desperately trying to ask the obvious question without needing to say it.

 

Naive-Loki caught on, and waved his hand to summon the oft-used bottle of oil from his personal ether. Nothing happened. Loki laughed, all tension vanished from his muscles, and vanished the muzzle. He needed it no longer.

 

“Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting you can’t use magic, and, well, if Odin has any in his room, I think I’d rather not know. Sorry.”

 

Naive-Loki cringed slightly, then laughed. “Certainly you haven’t forgotten our little spell? Has it really been that long?”

 

It had been that long, yes, but Loki would never forget his self-lubricating spell, for it had come in handy without the need of another person as well. The words came back naturally to him and he felt the strange sensation spreading inside him, warming and relaxing him and doing absolutely nothing to quench his unforgiving need. He let his head lay back again, unconsciously spreading his legs even farther to allow Naive-Loki’s hips to nestle comfortably between them. So languid and relaxed now, he did not expect the roughness with which his younger self wrenched his knees upward towards his chest, but welcomed it all the same.

 

Without any more warning, the first slender finger started to breach him and he arched his back in response, the smallest moan escaping from Loki’s pale throat. It seemed like so much after so long untouched, life’s greater priorities getting in the way of the craving he needed to satiate. How was he supposed to last more than a few seconds once entirely filled up?

 

Naive-Loki was not about to wait long to find out. He slid his index all the way in, coaxing little whines out of Loki, the wiggling stretching him out, preparing him, and making his already throbbing cock grow ever harder. Just when Loki finally felt comfortable with it inside of him, it was pulled out again, and replaced with two this time, relentlessly pushing farther in until they were entirely enveloped. The younger Loki started to stroke the most pleasurable, wonderful spot within him, and Loki started to feel moisture on his stomach, liquid leaking out, wishing to be consumed.

 

“You really did miss this, didn’t you? What a pity that you’ll barely last long enough for me to make it all the way inside you. What a missed opportunity. I suppose you’ll just have to summon me again the next time you get a chance. Do us both a favor and make sure you make me remember this.”

 

 _Ugh._ It was just like Loki to ruin the moment with inopportune words, to make a speech when he should have been making his creator come. “Would you just shut your _fucking_ mouth and fuck me?” Loki’s response was less than eloquent, but for once, he couldn’t care less.

 

Naive-Loki did not defy the order. He lined himself up, tip of his cock pressing up into Loki’s stretched hole, and pushed in punishingly hard. Loki cried out in pain and pleasure, the sound echoing through the magically-insulated room. He made no attempt to quiet himself as each thrust drove more of his anger and frustration at his feeble destiny out of him, replacing mental anguish with physical indulgence, hatred at himself healing through this insane, fucked-up, shameful self-love.

 

No, not shameful... Loki would never share this with anyone, anyway, so there was no shame to be had. It would rest within his own soul forever, eternally his and no one else’s.

 

As each thrust drove the younger Loki’s cock deeper within him, Loki started to feel the strain on his wrists, the cuffs biting into his skin, even with the soft velvet covering them. He bit his lower lip, hard, wanting to bleed, to let the pain drain out from him, leaving him unsullied and new. Even as he was deep within his own sensations, not thinking, unaware of the world outside of his own body and the one connected within him, he could hear the pants of his younger body growing louder, recognizing that he, too, was growing close again.

 

That wouldn’t do. “Ahh, Loki, we can’t have that... you don’t get two when I haven’t even had one.” Loki didn’t know how he managed to speak a coherent sentence, let alone convey what he meant, but clearly he was understood. “You are... ahh... really here for me, are you not?”

 

His answer came in the form of a spit-slicked hand roughly gripping his own cock, twisting up and down, thumbnail trespassing into his leaking hole, stopping the words in his throat and replacing them with a brusque cry. The cruel younger Loki edged him once more, nearly inducing him to climax before removing his hand entirely and putting his focus back on delivering harder, sharper thrusts within him, hitting his prostate over and over, that alone nearly driving him over the edge. Loki knew that the longer he kept this up, the closer he brought him, the better it would feel when it finally came, but _Norns_ could he not wait much longer. The damned boy, why did he have to be such a goddamned _expert_ in this, why couldn’t he just leave him be-

 

Naive-Loki moved his hand back and again stroked Loki’s cock with more ardent fervor even as he increased his pace yet again, his breathing altogether stopping now, the both of them growing close, too close, this couldn’t last-

 

With a simultaneous shout, both Lokis came with a crushing wave of pleasure, each feeling the other’s orgasm as if it were his own, their gratification doubled with two bodies as a vessel for one soul. Loki was filled and spent synchronously, his own seed replacing what he had given up, receiving his own offertory in return.

 

Loki waited, then let himself exhale.

 

He vanished the handcuffs back from whence they came, not willing to waste a moment away from embracing the one who he had loved the most, the only one who he could ever give all of himself to. The younger Loki did not hesitate to acquiesce, pulling his arms around him, kissing him gently as they rolled onto their sides, the almost-identical gods mirroring each other perfectly.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Loki could have stayed like this forever. But he had a duty to fulfill.


	2. unholy changes

Loki wished to let himself sleep, he knew he needed it, but he had already put this off far too long. He didn’t regret what he had done. Not in the least. But he still had something of equal importance to be done.  _ For each boon, a sacrifice must be made. _

 

He didn’t wait long, laying there in the warmth of the other’s arms, before speaking again. The longer he looked into his own eyes, the more foreign they seemed; the mirror was wavering and starting to crack. The time had come to shatter it. 

 

_ Might as well make it good.  _ He took a deep breath and exhaled the words. “I love you.” 

 

He didn’t know exactly why he said it. Possibly he just wanted to see the reaction. It surprised him how easy the words were to say, meaningful as they were. Loki spoke untruths all the time, to himself, to others, to everyone. Would Naive-Loki even be able to tell whether he was lying or not?

 

It didn’t matter. After the words came out, Loki knew he meant it. If he could believe it, he knew the other could, too. Moreover, he knew it needed to be said. He needed to break the silence, and he still had a mission to fulfill. Telling his younger self the truth would be either the ultimate act of love or hatred, and he could not tell which. Maybe if he proclaimed which he wished it to be, it would become true.

 

The pale clone closed his eyes and smiled, face warming with it. “You love me... and?”  _ Of course. _ He was expecting more praise, benediction for what he had done to Loki, as he was so used to it back in his own time. Loki chuckled in return, tension melting away. 

 

“And... I still have something to tell you. You may have distracted me the first time, but you’ll see that I’m all... ah... fucked out now. Unlike you, my old flesh has limits. But I am in a much better mood now, and for that, I offer my gratitude. I believe you might be as well.”

 

Naive-Loki let out a sarcastic little groan and rolled over, turning his back to Loki, but in the same movement pressed back against him, fitting their bodies together perfectly. He stretched his back, ass rubbing onto Loki’s front. Trying to turn him on again, no doubt. His way of solving problems. Loki could work with this.

 

“You’re not going to stop me, you know. I’ve no choice now.” Loki draped his free arm over the clone, stroking his bare chest, running his fingers down his sides. He felt a contented shudder in response. “And since we’re running a bit low on time, we’re going to do this the easy way. Open your eyes.”

 

He would throw caution to the wind. If it didn’t work, he could always try again,  _ that wouldn’t be so bad. _

 

Loki did not know whether this would work. He hadn’t done it in several years, and never in front of anyone else.  _ Oh, wait. _ The time for endeavoring was now.

 

He closed his eyes and thought of winter; of ice, snow, death, silence, stillness, rebirth; and then he started slowly ambling his hand back up the younger’s form as he willed the Asgardian shroud to dissolve, fingertips turning frost-blue, spreading up his arms and down his body until he felt his entire being concluding naked and new. 

 

The younger Loki did not move a muscle, save for his eyes, which glanced down in shock at the cold and widened into awe as the storied ridges emerged from his future skin. And then, a slight gasp. Because at the touch, his skin began to metamorphose, too. 

 

The transfiguration advanced down, down, past their hearts, past their hips, until every inch was touched by cerulean. It seemed to glow in the moonlight. 

 

“I-”

 

_ “Shh.” _

 

Loki would not have the moment tainted with their frail words. There was no more truth than what was happening before them. He tipped his head behind the boy’s neck, nuzzling the cool skin with his cheek, inhaling the sweet, sharp musk. It was intoxicating in this form. But Loki knew the scent and color were not the only changes he had endured.

 

He slipped a hand down, first throwing off the heavy blanket, no longer needing it to ward off the chill. Loki had known since he was younger that frost giant anatomy differed slightly from that of the Asgardians, and he knew this Loki would know it, too. But he needed to feel it for himself.

 

Naive-Loki shifted his top leg forward slightly to allow his future self to explore, to venture the unseen and unknown frontier of his own body. Just beneath the dormant cock was another opening, a new one, purplish and made up of many folds, sweet wetness dwelling deep inside inviting Loki to venture in with his long fingers. He pushed one all the way in, feeling the cold encompassing it, and drew it back out and up to his mouth, tasting the saccharine saltiness, making his mouth water more. He moved it back down to touch his own, perfectly twinned in form and function and taste, loving the feel of having both, of  _ being both _ .

 

Both capable of filling and being filled, both borne of Asgard and of Jotunheim, both alive and dead. The paradoxes intoxicated him.

 

Loki felt undeniably at home in this body. It seemed so fitting, this beautiful, biological reminder that his true form matched who he was inside as well. So lucky to feel so at home in this skin; so cursed to never be able to wear it. 

 

And now, Loki wanted to utilize it. After a thousand years, another first time. He was starting to grow hard again with longing and from touching these new parts of himself. But Naive-Loki sighed affectionately and gently grasped his hand, bringing it up to his own mouth so Loki could feel his smile.

 

“Another time.”

 

Maybe he was capable of wisdom, after all.

 

They lay like that for ages, eons spent curled up together, radiating soothing cold rather than heat between their bodies, the only motion the muted rise and fall of their synchronous breathing. Loki did not know when exactly the younger specter had vanished, he did not even know if he had done it. More likely, he thought, the younger Loki had merely faded with his fading emotion, absorbed back inside of him, to become a part of his whole again. 

 

Loki’s words had always been lies, each and every one of them, and he knew his body was, too.

 

He knew he would wake the next morning and wear the blanched, boring Asgardian skin as he always had. It was habit now, and Loki’s supreme ambivalence resisted changes in habit. Moreover, hiding was a vital part of him. He could not change the liar inside, he did not want to; his skin told the story of his very essence, and he did not wish to change that. But he knew the truth would always lurk within him, whether he liked it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Again, this was entirely unbeta'd and written over the course of two nights, so I apologize for the roughness. Buuut I had a lot of fun writing it and wanted to get it out, especially this chapter as an alternate reveal to the events of Reconciliation chapter 3. There is not nearly enough Loki/Loki out there ;)
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr as stormtongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as stormtongue. 
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, this is my first time writing (unbeta'd) smut and I have only the slightest idea of what I'm doing. 
> 
> Chapter 1 can fit within the framework of Reconciliation nicely, as the first time he summons Naive-Loki before he tells him his origins. Chapter 2 will essentially be an AU of my Reconciliation AU.


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